Immortal: The Tale of an Alexandra
by J.D Alvo
Summary: SC4. Bred to be the ultimate killing machine by Ares, Achilleus Alexandra must confront his past,and learn about the family he never knew he had. As well as get Soul Edge for his master, having to confront his own siblings, and make the ultimate choice.
1. Demigod: Enter Achilleus

[This will be my first Soul Calibur fic, or at least my first attempt at it]

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur or it's characters. Achilleus, the OC in this fic, does belong to me.

(think of Achilleus as Achilles from the movie _Troy, _as Brad Pitt portrays him)

Immortal: The tale of an Alexandra

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Osthreinsburg. A place where the dead dwell and souls come to be feasted on. The dwelling of Soul Edge.

That blade, that name would bring fear to the heart of any ordinary man…

…then again, I am no ordinary man. I am no mortal. I am Achilleus Alexandra (the last name means nothing to me, just another part of my title.) To me Soul Edge is nothing but an objective, a toy that I think my master is interested in far too greatly. Yet I follow his whim, without question.

Yet he is the only one I will follow, for all others are beneath me, a fact I am proving currently while I slaughter countless people; dead or undead, with a soul, or devoid of one, servant of Nightmare or Wolfkrone, I care not. I show them no mercy all the same, as blood soon begins to soak my black armor and helmet. Yet they still charge at me like fools. I cut them down, line after line, my sword now almost a crimson beacon, my shield crushing skulls.

Why do I think this? Because it is true. I am no mortal man. I am a demigod.

Quite a claim, yet not so if it is true.

I was created by the gods themselves, the Chosen One to destroy Soul Edge. The other 'holy warriors' were just back ups. Although my memory draws a blank of my childhood, I only serve one of my creators. Ares. The God of War, the only god that fights on battlefields, as he personally slaughters men, according to legend. I have served him for as long as I can remember.

Yet he is not of fiction. He is like a father, and I like a son; if I had a damn family, I didn't need them. He trusts me with only the most important of tasks, and I was the one that spread his will in whichever way he saw fit, to undermine Athena.

Some would say the frequent punishment, and sometimes outright torture was abusive, all of which he did to me. Yet I found it necessary, now that I look back. I was young, foolish, weak. Not yet aware of my own potential.

Now look at me, despite me being the last surviving member of Fygul Cestemus (the cult which I hardly followed) I am the ultimate warrior.

More than enough to retrieve some damn sword.

I have already lost count of how many I have killed. The only testament was the puddles of blood, and the scores of bodies behind me.

Pleased, I soon got onto one knee, looking at the ground, my sword and shield sheathed on my back, and I recited a prayer to my lord, the God of War, speaking in Latin tounge.

" _Laus exsisto vobis Ares , meus senior. Illa mortuus men es meus vitualamen. Take lemma," _with that, I slowly got up and looked to the castle in front. The lair of the so-called Nightmare and his servants. Smirking, I merely charged towards, cutting through the battle once more.

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As I continued cutting through the people, the battle which I had recently ignored had reached a lull, as both sides began to retreat, having lost too much men from the warfare, coupled with my slaughter of both sides.

I smiled maliciously. Some army. What legion worth crap runs away? Although I couldn't blame them.

All the soldiers made a hasty retreat. The absence of them left me void of anyone to fight, not that they were much challenges.

I was so……bored.

Yet I couldn't dawdle. I couldn't waste time, not a second. Once again I was on the move.

Unbeknownst to me, however, I was being watched.

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As the battle finished, and Achilleus ended his slaughter likewise, a white clothed woman was silently stalking him. She was similar to him in almost everyway. With her soft skin, clear blue eyes, and long, braided long hair, he seemed almost like an angel.

Yet her actions as of late have made her far from one. More akin to a demon, perhaps.

Her name was Sophitia Alexandra, a daughter of a baker, mother of two. The latter being the reason why she was doing these sins.

And the reason why she was about to commit this one.

"I'm sorry, whoever you are, but your soul looks strong…a meal for Soul Edge." With that, she unsheathed Omega and her shield, silently stalking him.

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I stopped my pacing when I heard footsteps coming from behind, as well as the sound of a sword being drawn.

Finally, some sort of challenge. Pray to Ares that this one actually lasts a couple.

Gaining my bearings, I turned to look at the one who dared to challenge me…and nearly did a double take at how similar she looked to me. I gazed down at her, being nearly 6 inches taller. The almost seemed like opposites. Even the color of our swords were inverted, and my black shield contrasting her blue and yellow one.

Yet something about her…

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"This is the territory of the Cursed Sword," Sophitia said while drawing Omega, and bringing her Owl shield in front of her. "Leave at once."

"That blade belongs to the God of War," Achilleus sneered, whilst drawing his own sword, rightfully dubbed Alpha. Unlike Sophitia's Omega, which was made of steel, Alpha was made of black steel. His shield was still on his back. "It's days of freedom are at an end."

"Fine, I warned you. You would not have understood anyway," with that, Sophitia charged her opponent, jabbing her sword at his chest. Achilleus parried it, with enough force to make an about-face. Before he can stab his sword into her, however, she rolled out of the way of his lunge. Still crouching, she sliced at his ankles, making Achilleus jump out of it's reach. He came crashing down with his sword, Sophitia barely able to block it in time. The strength of the crash was enough to make her stumble.

Whilst she was still stunned, Achilleus reached out with his right arm, grabbing her throat, and holding her in the air. Whilst the servant of Nightmare struggled, he continued applying pressure. He could've easily crushed her neck there and then, but no. He wanted to see her struggle. Struggle for her life.

However, his sadism would cost him, as soon Sophitia, having enough consciousness, swung his sword right at his head. He broke the hold, giving him enough time to avoid being decapitated, but the sword struck the side of his helmet, and with a resounding _*CLANG!*_ the helmet dropped to the floor.

As Achilleus stepped back, not minding the loss of the peripheral, Sophitia took a good look at his features. He had long, flowing blonde hair that reached to his neck. The rest was almost like looking at a mirror, only if she was male. He had clear blue eyes, and pale skin, albeit tanned, baked from the constant heat he had to endure, in battle or otherwise.

But apparently, Sophitia had seen them before, as she dropped her sword and shield almost instantly, making Achilleus raise his brow in confusion. The next words she spoke, however, shook him to his core.

"Achilleus…..I…I thought you were dead…."

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Hopefully, it was good for all of you. Reviews are most appreciated.


	2. Visions

Chapter 2: Meus frater est meus hostilis.

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Calibur or it's characters. Achilleus, however, is mine, unless Namco decides to be total dicks and take him.

Note: List of translations to be included in the next chapter.

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Achilleus could only stare, dumbfounded, by his opponent's proclamation. He suspected that this was a ruse, a distraction to open his defense…

…yet the sincerity in her voice, dropping her weapons to emphasize her point…

Just who was she?

Not taking any chances, as well as capitalizing on his own opportunity, Achilleus suddenly pounced like a lion on it's prey, hitting Sophitia square in the face with an elbow. She soon crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Achilleus gazed down at the comatose body of his adversary. Getting on one knee, his senses flared, his viciousness was at a peak. No longer in control of his own actions, which wasn't much of a change, in reality, he brought Alpha to Sophitia's neck.

She had to be killed…if only to sate his killer instinct, bred by a lifetime of only war.

"Pray to your patron god for a safe voyage to Elysium…" he said coldly. "To show you mercy. For I will not."

He raised his sword above his head, savoring every moment of the kill, before he finally did.

Before her blood can stain his sword, however, it stopped inches from her neck. His veins bulged on the sides of his cranium, as a sort of great pressure soon found his way into his brain.

Unable to bear, Achilleus slumped down next to the innate body of Sophitia, he himself soon drifting to unconscious, the stress unbearable even for him….

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_March 12th, 1566_

_Athens, Ottoman Empire_

_It was a windy day in the Alexandra household, as a young, 2 year old. Achilleus yawned in drowsiness. He was waiting for his mother to tuck him in, but after a long time, she did not come._

_Curious as to what was taking her so long, he timidly climbed down the stairs, gingerly on each step._

_Finally reaching the kitchen, he saw a congregation of people upon the place; family, friends, physicians, all clamoring in excitement at what his mother was holding. _

_A wailing baby girl, whom Achilleus was observing carefully. _

_Nike, his mother, soon noticed her young son looking timidly at the whole scene._

"_Achilleus," she said with pride, as she held the newborn on her shoulders. "Say hi to your baby sister.." she paused as she thought of a name. Finally deciding on one, she beamed as he continued._

"…_Sophitia.."_

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And with that, Achilleus woke with a start, the strain visible on his face. Cold beads of sweat rained down his face.

These sort of visions….he had never had them before.

He was no stranger to hallucinations. Out of hunger or thirst, or simply Ares toying with his mind, they had raided his conscious being many a times.

Yet Ares had never shown much proficiency in these sort of things, nor were they able to affect him, shake his core so efficiently, like just now.

He only knew one god…or goddess , rather, who could do such a feat. The Goddess of Wisdom, the mind.

"Athena…" he said in a slow whisper. Suddenly, his heart raced. If she knew of his existence, she had surely told the other gods by now…

..and he couldn't have that. The only one who knew of his existence was Ares. For all intents and purposes, he was dead.

Yet if that were to change…

"No," Achilleus only shook his head. He was thinking of this too much. Even if true, that only meant he had that much less time in finding this sword.

Quite frankly, he feared Ares' retribution more than that of the other gods.

He now looked to the still inert body of Sophitia. Even with the blood tricklikng, her face was faultless, angelic….

…like any pious servant of Olympus; he snorted at the thought. Yet she wasn't as heavenly and angelic as she would have herself believe. She was now a servant of the blade he pursued: Soul Edge, or 'Nightmare', as it called itself.

She was a killer…

…much like himself. As much as she didn't want to admit it.

"Yet she has her uses, weak as she is," Achilleus said, pondering. He might be able to get some information off of her.

Like where Soul Edge resided. Then, of course, he would kill her…

…but that would come in due time.

Making up his mind, he slumped the still inert body of his new captive over his shoulder, the weight effortless, like a feather.

A black raven soared over head, croaking loudly at the sight. He paid it no heed, and instead took off, concealing himself in the shrubbery of the forest, the maiden in tow.

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The raven continued it's track across the forests, finally flapping it's wings and resting to a stop on the green feathered glove outstretched towards him. The owner of said hand, now lovingly petting one of her many avian companions, had a revealing green feathered dress, more for flexibility and maneuverability than for decency. Her blue hair stuck out, and she had the face of one who has killed many, yet is able to hide it in a façade of cuteness…

….not that she's good at hiding it anyway.

Tira had felt the black soul of the man she was now watching, her reluctant partner, Sophitia ; now his captive. Nightmare hated weakness such as this in any of his servants, and for that, her soul would make an excellent meal for Soul Edge.

But before she did that, she desperartely NEEDED to be play with this new arrival.

"He's such a cutie pie!" she said giddily at first.

However, her face soon distorted into one of insanity and bloodlust, a snarl encompassing her lips that would make anyone squeal for mercy.

"It's such a shame when I have to tear him apart," she said, her voice now deeper, and more sadistic. With that, ring blade straddled on her shoulder, she jumped from tree to tree, going on the exact same path Achilleus made.

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	3. Questions

Chapter 3: Questions

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Sophitia stirred and stirred, trying desperately to wake, pulling against the ropes which bound her to a tree…

…yet did she want to? To gaze at her brother? Could she call him that? She had abandoned her family to save them, abandoned her Gods even, all for her daughter, and her family's safety. When she saw the cold steel of his eyes, she did not mind, and was only happy at finally seeing her long-lost sibling. Someone she knew, or thought she knew, she could count on to keep her from descending into the madness she was willingly plunging into.

But she was wrong. What she received was someone who was already knee deep in madness. He barely noticed her, seeing as her extra baggage, only keeping her alive because Ares wished it so.

He hadn't even regarded her, not even asking her where Soul Edge was. He almost tried to ignore her. He frequently left the camp he had set up, trying to distance himself from her.

All this experience was almost wishing for the Gods to punish her for her treason. There was no one she could turn too. Nightmare would most certainly kill her for letting her get captured. Yet that seemed like a reprieve from her own brother, who regarded her with almost hatred in his eyes, as he brooded.

Her eyes only flickered slightly as she saw the huge, black stallion. What was happening, however, made her squint her eyes to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

Achilleus was stroking the horse's mane, but what seemed to be words radiated from both of them, the human and the horse.

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"….so, you will tell Ares of the mission. I should have the location soon." Achilleus reassured to his old friend, Xanathos, as well as his faithful steed.

"What of her?" the horse said, his throaty voice hoarse as he looked over to the captive Sophitia.

Achilleus only looked briefly at her, before saying darkly: "I'll deal with her." His tone loosened as he spoke with his companion. "Ares should be pleased with the info. Come back when you have returned…"

The horse responded with a nod of his head, and turned tail. The next second, he galloped, apparently to the distance.

Achilleus watched the departure for a while, until the steed disappeared from view. He then only sat calmly, his face emotionless as he only sharpened his sword, using a rock as a makeshift forgery.

His demeanor seemed aloof, wanting his captive to slowly dwell onto madness. With that, she would be more willing to divulge information.

At which point, he would kill her, as she would no longer be of any use. All of this rhetoric, this protocol, of interrogation, he had picked up over the years. Warfare and death was the only thing he wished to learn, as Ares had both so instilled in his heart.

Yet the technique was soon backfiring. The unnerving silence was, for once, driving him insane.

Each time he grated his sword, he slipped more and more.

Each second that went by, he grew less sane.

'How?' Was the question that repeated himself over and over. 'How does she know so much?'

Her words were yet to be validated.

But if they were…

'Do I really want to do this?' he asked himself, and he seemed almost shocked.

He had never hesitated like this before. He had never drabbled.

He suspected Athena, once again, was behind this.

Yet now he was not so certain. Did they come from him? His own being?

Achilleus' brooding was put to a halt when his captive spoke up, stopping this self-destructive train of thought.

"Why do you do this?" she said. He did not turn to look, yet a small smirk crept on his face. Time to repay the favor.

"I was born, and this is who I am. The gods made me this way." he stood up to his full height, gazing down at Sophitia, a steely expression plastered on his features.

"That's not how I remember you." Sophitia retorted. At this, Achilleus finally turned to his captive. He briskly walked over, almost with a purpose, and kneeled to her level. He cupped his hand across his throat, looking darkly at her.

"If you ever say something like that," he put pressure around the neck, yet she did not gasp for air. She only stared.

"If you EVER bring up the notion that we are related…I'll have your head on a spit in an instant We are nothing alike. You're just a servant, first of Hephaestus, now of Soul Edge. Don't think I don't know who you are, Sophitia. Ares has told me much about all the riff raff that bastard forger chose. I had to know….it was my duty to eliminate them." At that, he released his grip, ignoring the stern look that Sophitia now gave him.

But he didn't her pious out look. "Do you know why you're here?"

Sophitia shook her head. "I know what you seek, but I would be saving you by not telling."

Achilleus chuckled at that. "Nightmare has more to fear from me than I of him. The same goes for his servants..," at that, he gazed at Sophitia, scanning her up and down.

"I don't serve Nightmare for my own gain.." she said almost with sorrow. At this, Achilleus knelt down again, on to something.

"Then for what?"

Sophitia tried to choose her words carefully."Have you ever….had someone you loved…" she started, but Achilleus cut her off with a quick…

"No."

At that she sighed. "Please, brother…"

"**ENOUGH!!!" **he snapped, and with a wild swing of his arm, a tree was bisected, as if it had been hit by an axe. It was just something about her calling him that…

..it just set him off. Made him angry. Made him lose control.

He drew Alpha and pointed it at her, his voice shaking with anger. "I told you….to stop it."

He tried to calm himself down, tried to regain his balance…

…and with a deep breath, he did finally, placing his sword in his scabbard. "You're lucky I need you," he said glaring. "Otherwise, Hephaestus might have lost another of his servants…although I hardly think he'll miss you." He laid down, trying to rest. "You'll find the faith….one-sided."

Finally finding some time to reflect, nothing but anxiety filled his mind. Just who was this person? He refused to believe they were related in any way…

…he ended his thoughts on purpose, sighing. He hoped to converse with Ares soon…

..because he needed his counsel more than ever.

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